Chainfire
by crueltyandthebeastx
Summary: Bobby Monroe was just your normal average every day girl. She grew up in a small town and eventually just had to leave; you know what they say about everyone knowing your business in a small town. She finds herself in Utah at the mercy of Mac, the local terrorist - of sorts - but is she really at his mercy or is this something neither one of them expected to find...
1. Haggling Demons

The Utah soil was hot underfoot as Bobby walked it. She was a farm girl and she was accustomed to such heat and desolation. Walking, she thought of the day she'd left the dry Nevada heat and the arid soil to make a name for herself elsewhere. She became a nurse, putting herself through school while working two jobs waitressing and bartending; she lived in California for six years before her father died…

She came back here to Utah, where her father moved after her mother finally died of all the abuse he'd taken out on her, to bury the man she barely knew anymore and perhaps find something here that she lacked in her life out there. She came to an old bar called the Luna Mesa and walking inside she nonchalantly threw a glance about the room. Silence settled in the small bar as she made her way further inside, finally sitting down at the bar and lighting a Marlboro Red.

An older man that looked to be of Mexican descent walked up to Bobby's spot at the bar and smiled softly at her, "What'll ya be havin', doll?"

She puffed out a small cloud of grey smoke and smiled warmly back, "I'll have whiskey, straight, two shots please."

The bartender walked away to grab the bottle and silence once again fell on the room as the door to the bar swung open and shut again. She fought the urge to look back at whoever came through, telling herself maybe it was better not to know. Soon enough, however, she heard the sound of thick lug-sole boots with steel-toes making their way across the room to her, stopping close by her; she heard the stool scrape across the floor as the new arrival sat down beside her. "Well," a voice said next to her as the old Mexican poured her a couple shots, "looky what I found here! What a pretty little thing…"

Bobby looked over to where the voice hailed from, looking unimpressed at his assessment. "I'm not a thing. I'm not an it. I'm a fuckin' woman, jerkbag." She paused, stealing a long drag from her cigarette as this guy's face turned angry, mouth rigid, eyes mere slits. "Ya do know what respect is, don't ya? Ya should show some, ignorance is not a very good look on ya, boy!"

She really did it now…

Before she knew what she was about, the man who'd spoken to her got up, knocking the stool back and took a hold of her thick brown hair in his rough strong fist. The stool crashed onto the hardwood flooring of the combination bar and diner; the sound echoed in the silence of them room. All the men who'd been eating or drinking were silent but alert to what was going on; they were all able-bodied and none of them were helping her. The man who had a hold on her hair was seething and she could read the anger in his eyes like red hot brands. His hold on her hair suddenly propelled her forward and her face slammed into the bar counter hard.

A lesser woman would have passed out from the sheer force of the connect her head had made with the bar but Bobby was born and bred of southern brawn; she didn't have the luxury of being a wilting lily. Her eyes peered up at the man from her place bent over the bar. His rotted grin was growing centimeter by centimeter as he realized he had her pinned and she was at his mercy, at least for right then. "Fuckin' bitch," he said as he kept his hand firmly fisted in her hair, his body leaning over her as he stood half behind and half to the side of her. "Nobody comes int'my town an' tells me what. I tell you what ya fuckin' cunt." He smirked wide and his rancid breath hit her square in the face. "You want respect, ya gotta show yer Master some first…then we'll see."

This guy was fucking insane, clearly. Bobby's brain was working again, going a mile a minute as he held her down on the bar and leaned over her. His breath in her face was enough to make her gag and she didn't care for the way he was talking about her showing him respect; he didn't know what respect really was. "Look, I don't know you. I'm sure we could talk 'bout this or somethin'?" Bobby was trying to appeal to his more rational side; she didn't realize it yet but her apparent need to placate him wouldn't work. It looked for a moment like the man was going to let her up but instead, he merely pulled her head up by her hair and slammed her back down on the counter again. The action forced Bobby to grit her teeth together so she didn't utter a cry or yelp of pain; she refused to give him the satisfaction. "Jesus…I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make ya mad. I say shit I don't mean half the time…"

The man who was holding her, terrorizing her, was huge. He was bigger than any other man in there and that was saying something considering they all looked like thoroughbred miners and the like. His hair was greasy and the individual hairs clung to each other like threads in a weave; it was wayward too, having the appearance of loose hay the way it laid haphazardly on his head. His teeth were black from rot and his breath, well, that's what the stink was from, Bobby was sure. She'd been right about the boots too; simply from the sound alone she'd deduced they were thick lug-sole with steel toes. His clothes were dusty and tattered in some places, navy blue coveralls with a white wife beater underneath. The white of the wife beater was almost yellow gray from the amount of wear and dirt it saw over the life of the shirt. The worst of it all was that Bobby could see the man beneath the dirt and grime and the overpowering aroma around him of body odor, ammonia, whiskey and smoke, and she could see he wasn't half bad looking. The man was handsome even, in a very rugged and alluring way. He could pass for sexy if the smell of his teeth and the ambient scents hadn't been so strong she wanted to hurl.

She looked into his eyes then, thinking she needed something that wasn't abstract to get her mind off the smell that was making her eyes water when her eyes met his. How had she not noticed his eyes before? Bobby blinked once and she felt her mouth go as slack as it could with one side against the bar. His eyes were beautiful. It wasn't that fairytale kind of beautiful one would see and be instantly enamored by, no, but they were beautiful still in their own haunted way. They were blue orbs and they were deep and crystalline like the ocean but they had a gray milky haze over them that said this man had been broken so many times by the things he'd seen that it left him bereft of emotion, cold and distant and unreachable. It was funny, but that's what Bobby realized made them so beautiful, made him so intriguing now: his brokenness.

His pupils were dilated and black as the lowest pit of Hell. "What the fuck you starin' at, pussy girl? Huh?" His voice was a nice blend of rough and scratchy and smooth and velvety even in his pissed off state.

Bobby took a moment to reply. "I'm starin' at ya…your eyes…" Her own voice was pitched low and quiet, barely audible over the whir of the ceiling fan overhead and the small amount of chatter that had started up around them.

It seemed as though the man was done being angry for her imagined slight and let her up, his hand slipping out of her hair as she righted herself. He grunted and growled low and sized her up. "The fuck 'bout 'em…?"

Bobby stood upright and adjusted her tailored blouse and her hair. "They're…you're a good lookin' guy ya know. Ya don't have to treat girls like shit to get them to pay attention to ya."

His black teeth came into view again as he smiled ruefully. "Don' think I don' know what yer doin'. Yer tryin'a butter me up so I won' give ya yer punishment. Don' think it's gonna work; when that payment comes due I'll collect…" It was a promise.

"I wouldn't expect anythin' less." She said as she looked around them and then back at the man. She noticed the old Mexican staring at them from a shadowed place behind the bar. She thought it odd; why would he care about their exchange if he wasn't about to help her before in the first place…? "I'm Bobby. Nice to meet ya, reckon…" She held out her petit and feminine hand, long fingers waiting to grasp his in return if he wanted that.

"Mac…name's Mac." He looked down at her extended hand and grinned a full nasty rotted smile. "Bobby's a man's name. Think yer daddy was expectin' tits when he offered up that name as a choice?"

He didn't shake her hand; well, that was to be expected, she guessed. Her hand fell back to her side and she raised her chin a fraction of an inch. "Bobby was my mama's choice. Daddy wanted to name me Trigger after that stupid fuckin' horse from that TV show back in the day."

So he couldn't intimidate her; that was something new. "Yeah!? Well, no shit…" He smirked again and winked. "Well, doll face…good to see a new set o' tits in this place. Word o' advice, this is my town. I like what I see it's mine…an' I like what I see." Mac's tone lowered and the words snarled out of his nose like steam from a dragon's. "Hear me, sweet thing?"

"Yeah, I hear you…" Bobby's thoughts trailed off as she looked him over. She didn't whether to be afraid or be flattered, even though she knew she should be afraid a million times over. He liked what he saw? How many times had she heard that one in her lifetime? Not a single one. Ever. "But I ain't listenin'… If ya want me, that's one thing, but ya better start actin' like ya give a second shit 'bout me or I won't be 'round for long…ya hear me?"

Bobby waited for a bit, pausing to see the fallout of her words but none came. Mac didn't strike her as stupid or completely uneducated despite his appearance and his behavior. When it came down to it Mac seemed, to her, like his street smarts outweighed his inability to identify with academic smarts. She expected his retaliation; even better, she knew it would be at a point in time when Mac believed she wouldn't expect it. Bobby had to be on her guard from here on out…

Mac was on fire inside, seething to the very marrow. With all this little bitch had dared to say to him, he could have laid her out on the floor, out cold, and no one in there would have had shit to say to him. She'd gone from calling him handsome or at least 'good-looking enough' to insulting him yet again. Apparently she didn't realize that this really was _his_ town and what he said went. He eyed Walter over the bar; he was the master planner of their whole operation but Mac, he was the enforcer, the muscle, and what Mac did was almost always necessary to ensure their survival. What Walter said went when it came to Mac, otherwise, everything was as Mac wanted. He didn't get the nod from Walter he'd been expecting. Mac's mouth twitched as it formed a grimace. Well, what did that old geezer know anyway? This girl was Mac's, period. He'd keep her no matter what because after all he'd done for Walter, for Devon and Rick and the whole fucked up family business, Mac deserved some fucking compensation for once in his goddamn life!

While Mac was lost in his thoughts, Bobby had been quick to leave the Luna Mesa. For all intents and purposes, she'd lived to fight another day and that was all anyone could ask for sometimes. Of course she hadn't driven there; Bobby was new in town and she only lived six miles from the Luna Mesa. She was on foot but making good time, hoping the crazed obsessionist wouldn't miss his new pain in the ass for a good long while…

Contrary to Bobby's thoughts and unspoken wishes on the matter, when Mac came to attention he noticed her absence right away. "The fuck she go!?" He growled the words and everyone turned away from him, scared of his wrath. Rick ducked his head away, his eyes fixed on the lines of the hardwood flooring of the bar. "Anybody gonna answer me or do I gotta pound the fucker outta somebody!?"

Walter finished drying off his hands on a bar towel and looked his son in the eyes. "Bitch left." It was a statement, not drawn out at all, matter of fact and nonchalant.

"Son of a bitch!" Mac yelled with emphasis, slamming his bottle of Jack Daniels down on the counter and clapping his hands together once to get the excess dusty earth off. Turning his back on the bar and all its patrons, he made his way out of the bar, closing the distance to the door in no time at all. He parked his old red truck all the way across the parking lot, knowing damn well if he didn't that someone's drunk ass would hit it on their way home later; it was beaten and worn and showed rust in some spots but Mac took care of it rather well and it still ran like a top. He got in and didn't bother to buckle up; he never did. He figured if Sheriff Pratt or that little turd Harley was going to pull him over it wouldn't be the lack of seat belt that they'd be looking for. He revved the engine before putting the gear in drive and flooring the vehicle out of the lot.

Sometime later Bobby heard a truck coming hard and fast down the dirt road behind her. The rumbling made her turn; she couldn't make out the driver. All she could see was the red paint with a matte finish and the flood lights mounted on the front end. They made the truck look more like an oversized bug and less like an American classic but hey, who was she to judge who did what to their mode of transportation? Once he was even with her, the window rolled down and his blackened grin was infectious; he made her smile back at him despite the fear and uncertainty he'd instilled in her before. She could barely believe her luck tonight. "Somebody tell ya I left or what?" She crossed her arms across her chest and held the smirk; her eyes narrowed a bit, if only to see him better in the sinking light of the canyons. "Find it hard to believe ya missed me so damn fast…"

"Missed ya right 'way sweet thing. Ain't much 'bout a girl named Bobby I _could_ miss…" He was being good natured but all he felt like doing was taking her sweet ass while she was bent over his tailgate. "Why don't ya hop in an' I'll give ya a ride, huh?" He smiled wide at his own double entendre, his rotten teeth appearing before her shamelessly. Mac was playing the trustworthy card just in case it won him points with the girl. He couldn't help flirting though…

If this guy thought she was stupid or that he'd win her over that easy, then he had another thing coming. "Mmmhmm…well, if ya missed me so damn much ya should prove it." She faced him, the rolled down window giving her an unobstructed look at his face. Those rotten teeth weren't having the effect they should have had on her. "Get out o' that truck and c'mon over here…"

He looked like the cat that swallowed the canary for a minute. Clearly Mac wasn't accustomed to women baiting him back the same way he'd been doing for years to them; this bitch was forward and cocky without being outright slutty, and he liked that. He finally grinned, scoffing a laugh at the same moment. He liked a bit of fight; it's what always drew him to certain females. "How's 'bout you come over here an' get in. We'll talk 'bout it some then…"

Bobby grinned at him and his consistent pressing. Without the atmosphere of the bar and the other men she felt more confidence. "How 'bout not…? C'mon out, Mac; I promise I won't bite." Her grin remained and she couldn't tell if it unnerved him or if it amused him in the slightest.

Mac weighed the benefits against the negatives. Giving this little slut any leeway at all when it came to this was going to make it harder to break her later. "Alright, alright, sweet cheeks…ol' Mac's a comin'." He hadn't intended to give into her demands but if it kept her around then, that was half the battle right? "M'comin' out now; hold yer horses, lady." Mac slipped out of his seat and jumped down onto the dirt road. His thick soled boots kicked up a small cloud of dust every time he moved to Bobby on the side of the road.

Against Bobby's better judgment she waited for him to leave the truck behind and walk to her; everything inside of her was screaming to get out of there, to run away and never look back. She didn't know what it was that made her stay but it could have been the way he'd complimented her before. No man had ever said that to her, period, for any reason; and if this man was as bad as half the whispers she'd heard about him…then all the more, maybe he wasn't so bad. "Well…hello there…" She said softly when he got close enough to hear her.

"Hey there doll face…" He grinned obscenely. His hands twitched at his sides at the same time that his cock jumped in his coveralls. He ached to touch this girl, to teach her a lesson she'd never soon forget.

His movements, minute thought they were, didn't escape Bobby's notice. "So, ya missed me, huh? Or…so ya said…?" Hey eyes locked with his, brown orbs to his ocean blue hues.

He nodded, smirking his blackened grin like always. "Yeah…I did…pretty puss." His tongue flicked out over his teeth and he made an awkward sucking sound.

There was something that struck Bobby about the way Mac was acting. She had a feeling that he was dangerous, as dangerous as half of the whispers she'd heard, when he wanted to be; she also had a feeling that being dangerous was something he chose to be a majority of the time. But then, there was this other feeling she was getting that maybe he didn't want to be that way all the time and if someone showed him respect he might look differently on them, especially if that someone was of the female variety. "So, what are we gon' do 'bout this, huh?"

"We? There's a 'we', now?" His eyes danced under the fading light of the day and that's when Bobby noticed his pupils were dilated to the size of dimes. "C'mon, baby…admit it, you like me…"

Bobby couldn't help it; she smiled at his certainty and his cockiness. The apparent drug use scared her a bit because that told her he was often unreliable and unstable. But he was okay with her right then… "Sure, I'll bite. I suppose, even thought we literally just met, that I like ya, alright…"

He gave her the stink eye and a sly smile. "Thought you said ya don' bite girl…?" He was teasing her.

"I don't usually, so I guess I do like you, huh?" Bobby closed the distance between them and nudged him with her elbow. "I'll only bite ya if ya don't mind…"

Mac licked his lips and looked her over like she was his next meal. "Like bitin'…like it more when I'm the one doin' it…" He grabbed her elbow, the one that nudged him; he didn't want to let her go now, not without a fight to remember her by at least.

Her piercing brown eyes locked with his blue ones again but this time there was a warning in them. "I don't think that's such a good idea right now, sugar. Us just meetin' tonight and all…" Mac looked about to object when she put a smile on her face and a hand on his chest. "Where I come from the men are pure animals and they always take what they want. Now, ya want me to give ya all I got right?"

If she thought she was going to trick him like that… His eyes bore into hers and he tried his damnedest to dredge up any and every image of the whores he'd beaten in the past. Mac wanted so badly to want to hurt this one too, for all the teasing she done to him; but then, he'd never come across a woman quite like Bobby before. He was having a hard time separating sex and pleasure from the pretty face that stood in front of him albeit seemed to have no problem separating sex and pleasure from death, blood, and carnage. It was unlike him in almost every way but this wasn't a normal chick he'd run into either; she wasn't from around here. Unlike all of his conquests he wanted Bobby to give him all she had, freely, of her own volition. His brain was doing somersaults and the only thought that registered besides getting lucky was that Walter and Devon, Rick even, they would think he was going soft or crazy or both. To Mac, he knew exactly what he was doing for the first time in his life. He didn't want to _take_ this one…

By his silence, Bobby determined he did want all that and more; it was an internal struggle she saw in his eyes but she forced her tongue to remain docile. "Take me home and drop me at the door. No more and no less for now, that alright Mac?"

His emotions were a mess. That wasn't normal for him either; Mac hated emotions. He usually didn't have any to begin with. Why was this woman getting under his skin when no one else could even make his eyes blink? He adjusted his weight on his feet, shifting from foot to foot like he was adjusting his coveralls but really he was just confused and disoriented by her. This girl was so beautiful… What the fuck was thinking like that going to get him? Nothing, that's what; beautiful girls didn't stay with him because he was a fucking monster. Wasn't that it? He always had to take what he wanted and keep a tight hold on it or else it would slip away. Nothing good ever stayed…

"Yeah, alright…I'll drop ya at home. Hop in my truck."


	2. Wasted Efforts

Less than twenty minutes had passed since Mac dropped Bobby at her home. He'd found out it wasn't but a short run from the place he called home, a little shit pile of bricks and mortar with trash from the front door to the back yard. He sat in his truck watching her through her windows; if she'd only been in town for a week or so then she hadn't had time to put up her curtains. His eyes followed her as she moved around the small kitchen, as she drank a glass of water and finally took her shoes off or so he thought. When she bent over like that it was hard to tell exactly what she was doing.

Mac was about to pull off when Bobby left his sight and disappeared deeper into her house. That got his attention faster than anything. He sat forward in his seat and put both hands on the steering wheel of the truck but when she didn't reappear, Mac got out of the vehicle and ran around back of her house. When he got around to the back he was careful not to be noticed in the larger windows; there was a back porch there where his home was just closed off. He pulled on the handle of the screen door and it came open; it was unlocked and he slipped inside without a sound.

Bobby hadn't been around long enough to learn the benefits of locking her doors and windows and she certainly hadn't thought Mac would enter through her back screen door, let alone her home. She'd left the kitchen behind in favor of her bedroom and the clothing that was inside. Her top was off within in seconds and her shorts were next; her black bra was lacy and sheer and her panties were the thong kind, bikini cut and a heather gray-green cotton-spandex blend. The minute she peeled the shirt and shorts off Bobby tossed them in the hamper in the corner of her room, grabbed a towel and moved to the door of her room to make her way to the bathroom. She needed to wash the day off of herself.

Mac's journey into her house didn't stop at the back porch. He made his way inside until he was standing outside her bedroom, his head angled in such a way that he could see her in all her glory as she dropped her clothing onto the hardwood floor of her room. His eyes roved her body as it was revealed to him; Mac watched the way Bobby's body moved as she removed her clothes, body bending and twisting just so. Fuck, she was more beautiful than he had even thought she was when she was clothed! His mouth went slack when she finally got her shorts all the way off; she was wearing a thong and Mac's mouth went wet and his cock jumped in his coveralls. Damnit, she was the makings of a record breaking hard-on! He shifted behind the wall a bit more when she turned and stuffed her clothing in the hamper and grabbed a towel off her little shelving unit in the bedroom. "Shit…" He swore low as he realized she was coming his way, into the hall and probably on to the bathroom.

Not seeing another option, Mac ducked around the corner into what he presumed after looking would come to be a small study for her. He looked around until he heard the telltale sound of her bathroom door shutting. Peeking out from inside the other room before leaving afforded him an alright view of the hallway; Mac saw she'd indeed changed rooms and quickly made his way to the door. He heard the water go on and while he was taking a chance, he put his rough palm to the doorknob and twisted slowly, opening the door centimeter by inch until he could see inside. His cock hardened immensely with the view in front of him.

Bobby had her bra off and he could see the profile of her as she stood facing perpendicular to him; her nipples were starting to erect themselves with the action of disrobing. Her pink brown areola were the perfect shade, so appetizing, and the erect puckered nipples made his mouth water like a spring rain. Fuck, his dick was getting so hard! And then she bent down and took her panties with herself, her bare ass faced him directly and those round half globes beckoned for his hands to squeeze the shit out of them, his cock so slide right between those perfect creamy thighs and into her waiting… He blinked. She was looking at him, she had to be, that was the only option when her tender pink cunt was looking at him that way… He let his eyes run upward and Bobby had hers closed as she took the hair on her shoulders and brushed it back, her breasts raising perkily on her chest with her shoulder movements.

Before long she was stepping in the shower and he moved into the room, take a seat on the covered toilet and watching raptly as her shadowy figure moved from behind the curtain. This wasn't like him either; if it had been anyone else he would have been crashing into the room and taking her from behind as she bent over the low countertop. But this wasn't just anyone, this was the new girl in town and he was being affected in ways he hadn't known before…

Bobby kept her eyes closed as she felt the hot spray wash over her back and pelt the tension out of her neck and lower back. The feeling of the water and the heat seemed soothing, despite the heat and humidity surrounding her in the canyons; at least her fan would be caressing her wet skin when she got out and it would soothe her even more. She opened her eyes for a moment and looked over to her left; it appeared that a shadow figure was sitting on her toilet… Her mouth involuntarily curved into a deviant smirk; it had to be Mac, she figured. There wasn't another man who had shown her enough attention since she'd gotten there besides him. Her hands found her breasts as she watched him watch her through the milky white shower curtain; well, if he was going to watch her, she may as well give him a show that was worth watching.

Meanwhile back on the other side of the curtain on the opposite side of the room from her, Mac sat watching and waiting and debating the value of just going over and ripping the curtain off those little plastic rings and watching her big brown doe eyes widen with fear before she realized it was him; then she would smile a sick little smile and take him by the coveralls' collar and bring him into the shower with her where they would have torrid and fiery hot sex beneath the spray until the water was cold and icy. As he thought about that he kept watching, noticing the way Bobby's body turned towards him and her arms angled a bit, her elbows out to her sides and bent. Her hands…were they on her breasts? And was that soft moaning he heard? He perked up, sitting up straighter on the toilet cover and when the seat creaked he didn't even care. That little slut was manipulating her tits and those hard nipples and it was for him, he knew it!

The moans grew and merged into something new that Mac hadn't ever heard before. He'd heard the whores he paid for when they mewled beneath him as he plowed his hard cock into them repeatedly until he came hard in their filthy cunts, but this was different; this was…pure unadulterated pleasure. Bobby's moans were pleasure, plain and simple. She was touching herself and…

"Oh…oh God…"

Her hands had moved again, one was still at her breasts and the other played lower; Mac was sure she was touching her pussy, rubbing her clit as it hardened and puckered under whatever prompt was in her head. Her voice was ever-present as he listened and watched and his cock was out before he knew what he was about; his coveralls were unzipped and pulled low, his cock out and in his hand with a fury that surprised even him. He was jerking his cock this way and that, jacking it hard to her moans, little mewls and ministrations he was watching. He could imagine her mouth forming that perfect little o-shape with her mouth as he closed his eyes and imagined his cock plunging into that mouth, then pounding deeply, to his base, into her tight pink cunt. Holy fuck, this was good! Such a good image…

"Oh…Mac…I…Mac I'm gonna…gonna cum…"

Fuck…now she was saying his name! Mac groaned but softly, jacking on his cock so good as he concentrated on the thoughts of them having each other, of Bobby wanting it. He almost said things aloud too, sure now that she knew he was there, saying his name like that…

"C'mon…Mac…make your dirty girl cum…Master…make your dirty whore cum!"

Those words! Holy fuck, those words were spoken out of that sweet mouth with those pouty pink lips! He could barely believe it… He continued to stroke and jerk on his cock without repentance. He could never be sorry for what was happening here. The sounds that followed those words out of her mouth were telling of her climax reached as she thought of him. She screamed audibly on a gasp; no words anymore, just guttural and loud yells of primal lust ripping through her. He caught himself before he yelled, biting down hard on his lower lip so hard it bled; he could taste the blood on his tongue as he jacked until he couldn't feel his hand anymore. He came in a flurry all over the towel she'd left on the floor beside the toilet, his white jets blended perfectly with the material and he smirked his rotten grin at that sight; she'd rub it all over her naked body, he knew she would…

"Fuck…oh my God…so good…"

He imagined her feminine honey leaking down her thighs and his head between her legs to lap it all up. Mac usually didn't like to give oral, only receive, but this one girl got him going hard and she'd given him an amazing orgasm just then. Why shouldn't he give her pretty pussy a little lick, right? He licked his lips even just thinking about it. His cock got hard again and he looked down at himself. The fuck was this? What was this snatch doing to him? He shook his head and that's when the water was shut off. He got up quickly and exited the bathroom just as Bobby stepped out and onto the small bathmat. He watched her from the crack in the door as she stepped over to the towel and took in her hands. He waited with baited breath, sure she'd known he'd been there and would leave the towel behind; when he saw her put his cum rag of a towel around her body, he gasped just a bit, his eyes widening. This bitch was kinky. He kind of liked that.

He watched her as long as he could before he left the house altogether, going back out the way he'd come in. His trusty red truck was left right where he'd parked it but getting in was harder than it had been to get out. The pun in that was unmistakable. Mac drove home in the worst mood he'd been in over the course of the past few years at least; he'd gotten off once but his cock was still throbbing out of control from inside his coveralls. Why he didn't grab her before she came out of the shower and fuck the piss out of her was beyond his ability to understand. He shook his head as he pulled in his driveway; tonight was going to be a bitch to get through.

Beast started barking the moment Mac slid out from behind the wheel and his boots touched the hard packed drive. "Shut the fuck up, you mangy fuckin' animal!" When the dog didn't shut up, continuing to bark through his threats, Mac picked up an old tire and threw it over the fencing into the animal's enclosure, barely missing Beast by a few centimeters. "Shut the fuck up b'fore I gut you an' leave you on that new slut's back porch! Fuckin' mutt!" Once inside his rat trap house, Beast having ceased his incessant barking, Mac popped a beer open after retrieving it from his small fridge. He took a couple long pulls off the bottle before starting up the generator that ran all of his lights and small appliances in the house. Damn if this wasn't the worst night ever. He should have been happy for the release he'd had but instead he was pining over the repeated releases he should have unloaded in Bobby's sweet cunt. He guessed he'd have to get shit-faced drunk to forget about everything he couldn't have… Fuck that, he could have it if he wanted; Mac did want, badly. So how come he couldn't just take it?


	3. Scabbed Over

Bobby began her day early. The sun was barely cresting over the horizon line between land and sky when she finished her morning coffee and stood up from her kitchen table, padding on her barefoot over the linoleum into her living room and picking up the socks she'd laid over the armrest of the sofa. She sat and slipped her petit feet into the cozy cotton socks and pulled her tennis shoes from underneath the glass sofa table in front of her. It hadn't been long that she'd been here, Hell, it hadn't been long her living in any one place since her mama had died; but since she'd been here, even in the short time, she'd grown accustomed to her surroundings and the morning ritual she'd gotten into.

Getting up early was no issue. When she'd been living in Salt Lake City she'd been accustomed to working the graveyard shift in the ER; that required a person to be up all night into the wee hours of the morning. Bobby almost never got home before eight a.m. in the morning the next day. So from the second she opened her eyes, Bobby's brain was completely functional. She'd make her morning coffee and read the paper if there was one available, then she would get dressed and warm up, drink her coffee and hit the pavement; it had been something she enjoyed from an early age, running and jogging, and it just seemed to clear her head when she needed it.

She needed it now more than ever…

Her sneakered feet touched the dusty drive in front of her house and started to kick up red immediately. Whatever had possessed her to come back here after her daddy had died was beyond her knowledge at this point; everything in this place was desolate and boring as all Hell. Well, everything save Mac, that was… Mac was something else entirely and deserved his own category; Bobby reserved a part of her consciousness and her unconsciousness just for him.

Mac was an animal. He was a beast. He was a monster and a demon according to almost everyone in town, and she'd asked around. It had been almost a week since their little tête a tête in the bathroom of her house. She'd known what she was doing the second she started manipulating herself with Mac sitting outside her shower, as big as you please, leering at her like an old pervert. And he'd known she knew he was out there, how could he not? It was blatant and it was raw and perverted in itself and Bobby kind of liked it. She'd never before let her true freak fly like that before, just thrown all caution to the wind and masturbated in front of a complete stranger and possible murderer or rapist before. But then, it had been extremely intoxicating and she'd thought about him every night since that evening. Mac had become a small grain embedded in her thoughts that was flourishing and growing like a weed, more with every day that passed. She wanted, in some ways, to forget about him; she knew he was dangerous and now more than ever, she knew what he was capable of, but she still couldn't shake him. And now…now what; if Bobby were being completely honest with herself, she didn't want Mac gone. He was…

He was truly something else.

Bobby didn't know how to explain it any further. It was like a chemical imbalance that drew her to him like a moth to flame; they'd both been irrevocably damaged by their surroundings, the people in their lives, and everything that touched them since they were children. Mac's life may have been different from what others knew of it, or surmised, but it was common enough territory that Bobby felt that kinship, that bond. He knew what horrors lay in wait for people who least expect them, for the people that refuse to acknowledge the possibility of those same horrors; Mac was the horror and the terror now, to so many people there, and Bobby, that both frightened and excited her. She'd never been strong enough to fuel that kind of fear and loathing from people; she usually sought out approval and acceptance and she was usually always hurt by that weak need. Mac was everything she'd wanted to be, to become; at least, he was able to keep himself from being hurt again, and that was something she'd always yearned for.

Coming back to the present and the task at hand, actually paying attention to her surroundings, Bobby noticed her current path would take her straight past Mac's place. It was a dump more than it was a place, but she supposed it suited him just fine. All you needed was a roof over your head and something half-way resembling a bed to sleep on, right? She jogged in place in front of his rundown piece of shit place and sighed a bit; what she wouldn't give to fix it up so it looked at least somewhat habitable…

Meanwhile, the sun was barely up and there Mac sat, smack-dab in the middle of his living room floor with the greatest high he'd been able to achieve lately. He'd taken his little tin out of his coveralls' pocket the night before and laid it on the hall table only to wake up early fiending for a fix. He'd picked up the tin and rubbed the white powder on his teeth and gums at least ten times; the tin was almost empty and he was reeling. The lights, dim though they were, started kaleidoscoping and Mac soon found himself on his back, staring at the ceiling and all these pretty colors. The colors bled together and that led to the colors bleeding red, bleeding blood, then everything was red.

Mac turned on his side, smirking, his blackened rotted teeth showing in an ominous play against his otherwise nice looking face. The thoughts he was having right now bordered on psychotic, and they likely were; Mac had long ago become aware that the drugs, the meth, had likely fried his brain into psycho social behavior. It probably looked like swiss cheese too, but what did he know? He'd only graduated high school…barely. He looked up from the floor and saw Bobby standing in the hall, only it wasn't Bobby; it was a mere concoction of her his brain had dreamed up while he tripped out. "Fuckin' whore…get down here an' suck my cock!" When she doesn't answer he sits up and stares at the hallucination straight on. Well, the bitch looks real enough… "I said, get the fuck down here an' suck my dick you worthless piece o' ass…"

Bobby waded through the weeds out front of his house and up to the grimy front window that looked into his living room area. She saw Mac on the floor, sitting, his shoulders slumped and back hunched over, screaming at someone who wasn't there. Her first inclination was to turn away and go home, ignore the scene in front of her and just get out of there; but then, that would have been the coward's way out and Bobby knew that she was seeing a part of the true Mac, the Mac that everyone else in the canyons knew except her. She looked around, noticing the front door was ajar by just a sliver of an inch; going inside would be easy but would it be wise? Mac was capable of almost anything on an average day, and this was far from what an average day would be, or so Bobby thought. It was obvious he was suffering from some sort of delusion or hallucination but she was at a loss as to what or who could be causing such a thing. Of course drugs did that to a person…and Bobby had heard quite a bit from the ladies down at the Railroad Inn…

Bobby had been a nurse for five years prior to coming back out here so it would have been against her nature to leave a man who she felt was in need. In need of what though, she didn't know yet. She was at the door before she even realized she'd moved to it, Mac's screams louder now as he was right beyond the foyer in the front room. "Mac…it's…it's Bobby. Can I come in?"

The door was suddenly thrown open and Mac stood there in front of her in his coveralls, gas mask over his face and sweaty smelling of ammonia and whiskey and smoke. His rough calloused big hands grabbed her arms on either side of her and pulled her closer to him, just over the threshold of the door. "The fuck you doin' out here? I told you t'get over there an' suck my cock! Ya don't fuckin' listen! Yer just like the rest o' them. Sluts an' whores…nothin' but sluts an' whores…" He used the momentum he had pulling her to him to turn them both around so she was inside the house. Mac's words were muffled by the mask but his ocean eyes were amplified by the goggle style rubber in the eyes of the mask.

"Mac, listen to me…alright? This ain't ya…this ain't ya talkin' right now. This is the drugs, right…this is just the drugs talkin'. Ya know me 'nough by now…last night…"

Mac smiled behind the gas mask, showing his rotten grin even though the girl couldn't see that part of him right then. He liked when they started to beg. "Shut up! Don' wanna hear yer damn excuses! Yer a whore just like the rest!" He had her by the shoulders still and he shook her hard, her head snapping back and forth a few times before he shoved her back, her back hitting the corner of doorway between the front hall and the kitchen.

Bobby saw stars for a few minutes as her head followed her back onto the doorjamb with a loud thud. "Fuck…" She hissed out low, her head coming forward on instinct, her hand coming up to rub the small lump that was now forming. She saw Mac closing the distance between them and her eyes went wide for a fraction of a second. She didn't know what to do; did she run or did she stand her ground and risk getting raped and beaten bloody, possibly killed at the hands of the man whom, she'd thought, felt something for her. In her mind she knew that wasn't possible because Mac was an animal but then, her heart told her different. Her heart told her people change and that Mac wasn't the animal everyone said. "Mac…please!"

Before she'd even said his name or begged him with that one word, that one weak word 'please', he'd fisted his hand in her hair and yanked her head back exposing her neck to him. Her skin was just pale enough to get him going and just tanned enough to tell him she wasn't some kind of hermit in a past life. "I said shut the Hell up! Don' wanna hear you talkin'; I want yer mouth on my cock, now!" The force of his hand on her head, his arm weighing her down, she had no choice but to take to her knees on the hardwood floor. "Tha's right, tha's a good fuckin' whore…"

Bobby got on her knees but she wasn't about to suck him off, not like this. No, she was determined to have him sober the first time she did that; she wanted him to know that she wanted to do it. "No."

"Suck…my fuckin'…dick…you whore…" He punctuated each part of the sentence with a sharp tug on her hair and a jostle to her head.

"I said…fuckin'…no!" Bobby raised her voice at him.

"Cunt!" He spat the word out at her, raised his other hand in a wind up and back handed her hard across her face. His one hand still held her hair in a vice grip and that caused her face to bounce back to its original direction. "Yer gonna pay for that." It was an assurance, not a threat. There was no doubt in his tone.

Bobby would have screamed in another life but in this one she'd seen too much violence and too little love to feel sorry for herself. She still wasn't as scared as she should have been. "Mac…c'mon…Mac, ya don't wanna do this…" She tried to reason with him, even as her tongue bled profusely in her mouth, dripping out and onto the floor in his hall. Her back molars had bitten through it when he hit her causing her head to swim more than it would have just with the knock it had just taken.

"Wanna do worse; m'gonna take that cunt so hard an' fast yer head's gonna spin all over 'gain. Gonna make sure yer pissin' cranberry juice for weeks!" And with those words he picked her up, bodily, carrying her up the stairs and as quickly as he could; she was light enough compared to some other bodies he'd had to carry and in no time, he made it into his bedroom.

From what Bobby could see his bed consisted of two box springs stacked atop one another with a thick mattress atop the both of them. There was no bed frame so everything was just stacked upon the floor. There were no bed sheets either and the only thing Mac might use to cover himself up with was a thin looking summer quilt with a yellowish red stain on it the size of a small child. Her head was still a bit off kilter and she wanted so bad to say something else but the haze she was in wouldn't let her.

Mac threw her down on the bed without ceremony, her body bouncing twice on the mattress and box springs before laying prone and still. "Gonna make that pussy bleed all over my bed…get my dick nice an' red, nice an' slick with that life source…" He smirked before stripping himself of his coveralls and gas mask all together, once he was naked then crawling over her on the bed. "Bet ya it tastes sweet…just like I imagine that cunt juice tastes…" He was stroking his cock over and over, fast, even though he was already harder than stone.

Bobby could help herself; she smiled a bit at his comment about her blood being sweet just like her honey. "That's why they call it honey, ain't it?" She said weakly, looking up at him as he stroked his cock over her. Why didn't she feel afraid anymore? At that instant she should have been so afraid she would be fighting him tooth and nail for everything she had. She shouldn't have wanted him to take her like she did…

He was surprised by her comment, even more surprised that he liked hearing it. He shouldn't have. He was so high he should have been out of his mind and by all accounts he had been. Why was she bringing him back to himself? "Yer gonna beg t'die…" He told her just before ripping her shorts and panties down her hips to her ankles, spreading her legs wide and plunging inside of her. "Fuck!" He was surprised at how tight she was, but he shouldn't have been. Mac had always imagined she would be…

Bobby let a strangled cry out before she moaned deep and low. It shouldn't have felt as good as it did; she didn't want this, not this way. She writhed beneath him but his hands kept her flat on the bed and prone below him as his cock sheathed itself in her tight wet hole. "Jesus…fuck…" She had been fighting it before but only partially; Bobby couldn't fathom how, despite all Mac had done and said in the moments leading up to this, that she wanted him more than she was afraid of him. "Mac…" She moaned his name out on a groan just as the tip of his cock hit her spot four times in quick succession, that little spongy spot that made pleasure come at four score the intensity. "Oh my…gah…Mac!"

His eyes met with hers and Mac was overtaken with the feelings he'd tried to bury, tried to tell himself he didn't feel anything for her at all. "Fuckin' slut…fuckin' nasty, Bobby…" He pounded her cunt, burying himself to the hilt of his cock with impunity, demanding all of her wet hot heat as it started to spasm maniacally around his hard and complete penetration. Maybe he was wrong; maybe she wouldn't beg him to die after this. Maybe Bobby was just as damaged as he was… "Fuckin' nasty…so good…yer makin' me love you…"

Bobby's back arched off the bed, his cock pleasuring her to the brink but his words were going to throw her over the edge. "Mac…Mac…gonna…gon' cum…"

He thrust into her at a breakneck pace, almost ready to blow himself, shoot his load all over her insides like the scene of a horror show, a gory snuff film, a chaotic porno. "C'mon…give your sticky shit to ol' Mac…I told ya t'cum goddamnit!"

"Holy fuck!" And she did… Bobby came so damn hard her eyes almost crossed, her cum shot out of her, soaking the mattress below their coupling bodies and his cock and balls as they went at it feverishly. Her fingernails bit into his back as she attempted to drag him closer to her, her calves pressing his hips and ass closer, forcing his cock deeper if that was even possible. "Fuck, fuck, fuck!"

As soon as Mac felt the liquid fire shoot out of her he erupted into her insides. "Ah….ahhh…" He groaned before his eyes clenched closed. The blood in his veins pounded in his ears even as it throbbed through his cock. This was unlike all of his previous conquests; this was crazy good. This girl knew how to fuck!

Half an hour later Mac woke up to Bobby laying on his squalid bed without any clothing on, and his arm slung over her side. He was facing her but her back was to him, her perfectly formed, firm ass pressed against his groin; Bobby fit perfectly against him like that. He backed away from her on the bed, turning her on her back. She was asleep, or so he thought…until he saw the red marks around her neck and the sticky partially coagulated blood on her thighs and breasts where he must have bitten the Hell out of her. "Shit…" He said softly, loving the scene but feeling for her pulse. She was breathing and she had a pulse so he hadn't killed her; it wasn't time to panic just yet.

Bobby woke up shortly thereafter, looking up at him and smiling. "Shit, what?"

"Shit I bit you up bad, pretty puss…was right though, that blood tasted just as good as that sweet cum…" He leaned into her and whispered close to her ear. "Tasted all o' that…"

Bobby blushed a bit and hooked one arm around the back of his neck, keeping his face close enough to her to kiss his lips. When his lips parted and her tongue went into his mouth, dueling with his own tongue, she could still taste the blood on his breath. Between the blood and the musky sweet smell of her cum on his breath too she found herself getting wet again. "That's alright, Mac; I forgive you. Just gon' scab over and be scars someday…scars are nothin' but memories." She whispered back to him, close to his ear, her hot breath dancing over the skin right before his ear. "This is a good one…one I won't forget."

Scabbing over, now that was a concept. It felt, to Mac, as though this whole experience was a barrier to the pain he usually was trying to run from; he either drank too much or did too much meth to forget but right then, in Bobby's arms, in her presence, the pain didn't register. The black void he usually felt threatening to swallow him up whole, in the darkness, was pushed back by a light he hadn't ever thought he'd see, at least not for himself. "Ya know yer mine now." It was a statement of fact and not a question but he saw in Bobby's eyes that she understood. "No goin' back from here; ya danced with the devil an' fell in his bed…" He paused and moved some hair back from her face. "Yer mine now. My girl, my bitch, my slut, my whore…only mine. That cunt is mine. Understand?" As she nodded he smirked a bit. "Some things can't be scabbed over, some wounds never close…but I'm startin' t'think maybe ours can…"


End file.
